Just Say Yes
by marap
Summary: 'He whispered her name. Her mouth, as his pressed firmly against it, swiftly stole the last syllable.' Sam/Andy.
1. Part I

_AN: This is not my first fanfiction, but it is my first Rookie Blue fanfiction. It is not beta read so I apologise for this. I simply wanted to get this first part up to stop me obsessing over it endlessly. I believe this fic will have three parts, all of which are set during episode 2x11. It's a series of a few missing scenes, so to speak. So of course there are SPOILERS for that episode and possibly vague ones for the last two episodes. I am writing this prior to having seen those episodes however and thus later parts may not fit exactly with things said/seen in the finale. I have the second part nearly written so it shouldn't be too long a wait. I hope you enjoy! xx Mara _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue. The title is that of a song by Snow Patrol and thus also not mine._

. . .

**Just Say Yes**

I.

He whispered her name. Her mouth, as his pressed firmly against it, swiftly stole the last syllable. His arms held him steady above her, the distance minimal. She was less steady, a subtly anxious, giddy tremble claiming her strong body. When his lips left hers and danced lightly over her temple and down behind her ear, she stole greedy breaths of cool air. Her chest rose and brushed against his. A touch he welcomed.

He slid his hands beneath her back and lifted her up against him again, her hands at the back of his neck and her hair falling behind her like a lifted veil. His hands crept over her graceful back and felt the band of her bra. With the feel of his lips on hers once again, she barely registered him unhooking the garment. Going with her, he let her back touch the soft sheets once again.

Sam pressed sweet, deliberate kisses along her collarbone and chest before sliding the bra straps from her shoulders. He pressed a slow kiss to her breastbone, his chin brushing midnight blue lace. His lips lingered, giving her a second as her felt her heart rate build. She wasn't alone in that condition. Lifting his face to hers, he pressed another kiss to her swollen lips, keeping his eyes open to look into hers. Gently, he pulled the bra from her and let it fall into the slowly increasing river of fabric on the hard wooden floor.

His lips did not hurry to continue their journey over her body. He placed leisurely kisses down the column of her throat, taking his time. Because he could, because he wanted to, and most of all, because she deserved to be cherished.

"The lights," she suddenly whispered between breaths. The first words spoken since his lips had met hers.

Lifting his face, he noticed her shoulders hunch ever so slightly in a surprising, self-conscious movement. Her eyes met his as he watched her. Almost overwhelmed, she closed them momentarily. When her eyes opened, she was breathless to find his deep eyes once again staring right back at her.

In his love drunk state, it took him a second to register what she asking. He looked down at the bright glow of her face and upper chest under the florescent light of the industrial apartment. She looked beautiful, but with a hint of anxious vulnerability in her eyes, he quickly understood. He hesitated, reluctant to leave and break the spell.

"Don't move," he spoke softly, not breaking eye contact. It was more a plea than an order.

She shook her head with an impish grin, before she saw his bare torso turn and him take quick strides towards the door. She saw his hand brush quickly over the light switch, leaving her in gentle moonlight.

Suddenly, a memory escaped to the front of her mind. She remembered his form leaving the room. The sounds of electrical interruptions he sought to put to rest. Her sitting up on his bed and reaching for her top with shaky, guilty hands. His return to the room. The resurrected darkness doing nothing to hide her sorrowful embarrassment. The look on his face. He had looked how she had felt.

As if to reassure him, as well as herself, that this time was different, she let her body fully relax into the bed. The mattress was different, the sheets a different hue. Yet with eyes closed, it was just the same as the bed she'd known that dark night. That same Sam smell, she acknowledged, turning her head into the sheets and breathing it in contentedly.

She was drawn from her reverie by the gentle, wave-like sinking of the mattress as Sam languidly eased himself back over her. He nuzzled her nose with his before pulling back a little and letting his eyes greet hers for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Each time left them both a little weaker than before.

"You sure?" he asked as his hand lingered on her midriff, a shiver greeting his touch. In contrast, her dark eyes, he noticed, were completely steady as they looked into his. They didn't waver or struggle for focus. His heart was heavy with love and honor as he detected her complete certainty of this. Of them. Of _him_.

With a patience few knew he possessed, he waited. He still needed her to tell him. Her hands clung gently to his warm shoulders as she stole a calming breath and let it out instantly. He felt it on his face, the softest touch she could give. She continued to hold his gaze and answered with a simple, single word.

"Yes."


	2. Part II

_AN: Okay, here's chapter two. It too is set in 2x11. Sorry for the wait. It was longer than intended, but I kept obsessing over this chapter. I am not sure I am totally one hundred percent happy with it, but I hope it does not disappoint. Thank you so much to everyone who read last chapter and especially to those who reviewed. Your words were lovely and I am so happy you enjoyed it! Thank you all for your support. I hope everyone loved the finale. I am happy but still sort of mentally processing it all! Maybe after that finale there'll be a few more chapters to this than I had originally thought… x Mara_

**II.**

Later, as she lay in his arms, her emotional eyes seemed to shine with a emotional mist. He swallowed. Physically, it had been everything he'd known it would be. Emotionally, it was even more than he could have imagined. The way she'd clung to him, curling her body to his and giving herself so fully to him. She'd trusted him in a new, precious way, so beyond the obligatory trust their job demanded.

Her heart had beat so fast that he'd slowed the pace a few times to let her calm. He'd diligently kept his eyes trained on hers, urging her to look back at him. At one point, overwhelmed, she had let her eyes drift from his. A protective, gentle kiss from his nose to hers, and after a second, she'd bravely met his eyes once again.

Now, feeling the crispness of the cool night air against their warm bodies, her left arm lay idle on his broad chest. Her right arm was sprawled messily above her head, at natural rest. His left arm wrapped around her as she lay against it. In those moments immediately _afterward_ that should have been awkward but somehow weren't, she had questioned if she was hurting him, with her weight on his arm. He'd smiled. She wasn't, but somehow he doubted he'd have noticed even if she was.

Her hair was barely messed, evidence of the gentleness of the last hour. It fell softly over the tiny inked detail on his shoulder. She hadn't asked what the tattoo meant. More surprising was that she didn't plan to. Not yet, anyway. She'd deliberately refrained, saving some questions for future moments in his naked arms.

As he looked down at her, his hand danced across her back with a lightness that left her breathless. Her weary, yet restless eyes closed for a moment. He stole a glance at the watch around the delicate wrist of her right hand. Soon she would have to leave. He was angered that their time was nearly up, but he could not in any way regret the slowness with which he had made love to her. She deserved to be worshipped, and he hoped she'd felt that in his touch.

'Sam?' She murmured, lifting her head to look up at him. Her heart fluttered when she realised his face had already been turned towards her.

'I knew the silence wouldn't last long,' he teased. A dimpled grin told her he was joking.

She dropped her lower lip in faux shocked offense. 'You just think you are so funny don't you?' She poked an accusing finger into his chest.

'Yeah well, I seem to recall _a certain someone_ laughing at my jokes,' he said cockily, his voice that semi-drawl that turned her insides to mush.

But she wasn't letting him win. 'Didn't want to damage your ego,' she rebutted with a shrug and a cheeky smile.

'Ohh, right," he said disbelievingly, before closing the small distance between them and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Reverently, she ran the backs of her previously still fingers over his solid chest. Then she pressed closer to him and burrowed her face into the path her fingers had just travelled. Feeling his chest beneath her forehead, she slowly closed her eyes.

'Andy,' he spoke after a moment.

'_Now_ who's breaking the silence?' She spoke into his chest, her lips ticked his skin and her words were muffled. But he'd heard her.

He smiled. His cheeks were starting to hurt. It was almost foreign.

'You were going to say something before,' he said.

'Mm,' she confirmed, looking up and tucking back down next to him. 'I was just gonna say that we _really _need to work on our timing,' she gave a self-deprecating smile.

'I don't know, I think we were pretty _in sync_,' he teased with a full fledged dimple reveal.

'Sam!' she exclaimed with a smile, genuinely surprised by his cheeky innuendo. He chuckled and ran a hand down her hair, urging her to rest her head back down on his arm. From that angle, the weak moonlight lit her eyes so perfectly.

Taking his lead, she let her head settle back into what had quickly become her new favourite pillow. She doubted an _actual _pillow would ever feel as nice as it once had. The thought suggested a dependency and security that should have scared her. It didn't. That in itself should _definitely _have scared her. It didn't.

Maybe those old fears would float to the surface later. Maybe she'd run for the hills when she'd had some time to process. _'No, Andy.' She_ promised herself silently. '_You will not'._ As Sam's arm continued its mindless dance down her back, the only thing that scared her was the thought of having to let him go.

'Do you think the universe has a plan?' she wondered aloud. 'For us,' she spoke with a wistful curiosity, her dreamy tone surprising him a little. He looked at her for a moment, a content smile gracing his face.

'Oh yeah, it was undoubtedly fate that brought you into that bar tonight,' he spoke with playful sarcasm. It was not the answer she was expecting, but she was grateful for it, for it brought a girlish giggle to her lips and chased bittersweet thoughts away.

As they lay together and savoured the minutes that remained, he told her of his surprise at seeing her at the bar. He teasingly expressed skepticism when she denied knowing he'd be there. She confessed her dissatisfaction with her creation of Candice, feeling less pathetic when he told her of Ernie. A perfect match.

Yet far too soon, the inevitable words of leaving crept off her lips, her eyes heavy with sad reluctance. Perhaps _more_ inevitable was the ignoring of these words, as they were quickly made redundant by the softening of his voice and parting of his lips. She wasn't going anywhere.


	3. Part III

_AN: Here's part three, I hope you like it! There will be at least another two parts after this one, despite me initially planning on this part being the last. But after that finale, well, there are many more moments that we didn't see, so I want to write at least a couple of them. This part, however, is still set in 2x11. Thanks for all your reviews and alerts, I am so happy that you guys are enjoying it. x_

**III.**

Andy had the sudden, sinking feeling that she and Sam had spent more time in this bed than she had realised _as _they were spending it. She quickly glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was almost amusing that the only thing worn on her skin, apart from the tiny studs in her ears, was such a cruel reminder of the ephemeral nature of their time together.

"Damn it," she said, as her suspicions were confirmed by the time on the watch face.

This was not what Sam had expected to hear as he rejoined Andy in the bed after a fleeting trip to the bathroom. Suddenly, just as he got back into bed next to her, the covers flew up in his face as she yanked the top sheet off the bed and messily threw it over her shoulders as she sprung from the bed.

"What happened?" Sam asked, oblivious in the simple happiness he was feeling.

"I'm really late, that's what happened!" she said with a weak glare as she spun around to look at him, almost tripping over the sheet, like a little girl playing dress up in her mother's wedding gown.

"Why are you looking at me like it's _my_ fault?" he spoke with a smile and raised eyebrows as he leant back against the headboard.

"Because it is!" she said, now seeming like that same little girl had aged to her teen years and was now angry with her mother for some seemingly unfair rule. "Those freaking dimples!" she shouted as she disappeared into the bathroom, the sheet trailing out the door. "Can you call me a cab?" he heard her yell, as the sheet lay at rest in the doorway and he heard the shower turn on.

Sam chuckled as sat up and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. He reluctantly got up and called a cab using the phone Boyd had given him, calling out to tell Andy he'd done so, before heading into the bathroom to join her. He sure as hell wasn't wasting the last few moments of what had easily become the greatest couple of hours of his life. As he moved towards the shower, he studied the watery silhouette of her figure through the shower curtain before pulling it back a little.

"Not that I mind this," he began as he stepped in behind her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, watching the water tumble down her back. She wasn't surprised by his presence. She'd been expecting him to join her. "But if you're so late then why don't you just shower later at the station later?"

"Yeah, cause showing up smelling like sex wouldn't be a giveaway or anything," she said as she pushed the curtain back a smudge and grabbed his shampoo from the sink. She gave a quick glance at the label before squeezing a generous dollop into her palm.

"Are you always this sarcastic first thing in the morning?" he teased.

She paused. "Sam, I'm going to fail," she said as she turned around to face him and stepped closer, avoiding the spray of the showerhead. She almost elbowed him in the face as she raised her arms to massage the shampoo into her scalp. Quick cop reflexes saved him.

He stole a fleeting glance at her beautiful, slippery body, before impressively meeting her eyes. "It's not an exam, Andy. It really doesn't matter," he said as his hands rested on her waist.

"Yeah well Boyd already hates me so..." She trailed off.

Sam shrugged one shoulder. "He's just intimidated."

She smiled as she stepped back to rinse the shampoo out under the spray. "Yeah, I'm sure that's it."

He'd stepped under the spray with her, and felt the hot water against his neck and chest. Andy hurriedly turned again and grabbed the conditioner. She nudged him back a little so she had room to once again keep her hair away from the spray of the water. As she franticly used her fingers to comb the conditioner through her hair, undeterred by any knot she encountered, Sam found he could no longer resist. He lowered his lips to hers and pulled her closer. Her hands fell weakly from her hair and came to land on his shoulders, traces of conditioner slick on his skin.

But then she stepped back and pressed a palm to his chest fleetingly, before beginning to rinse the conditioner from her hair.

"You've gotta go," she announced.

"You're kicking me out?"

"I have to finish my shower and you're making it difficult," she explained.

"But officer, I didn't do anything," he spoke in a soft drawl as he moved closer.

"Out," she demanded.

He stole a quick, final kiss before leaving her to finish her shower in peace.

He scrubbed a towel over his hair before wrapping it around his waist. He brushed his teeth and was in the middle of pulling his pants when Andy hurried out of the bathroom, a blur of dark, dripping hair and wet skin that was only semi-covered by a white towel.

She hurried over to the bed, picking up her clothes from the floor before dashing quickly back into the bathroom.

"I am capable of resisting, you know, if you want to get dressed out here," he called after her as he buckled his belt and pulled on a fresh shirt.

He heard a mumble in response and the sound of scrubbing and determined that she was in the process of brushing her teeth. There was only one toothbrush in the bathroom, and he felt irrationally pleased to know that she was sharing his.

He picked up her coat from the floor by the table, standing still for a moment as he remembered. He grabbed a few cash notes from a box on a shelf and pit them in the pocket of her jacket, she'd need money for the cab.

"Okay, the cab should be here in a minute," Andy said as she appeared in the bathroom doorway, running a towel furiously over her hair in an attempt to dry it.

Satisfied that it was as dry as it was going to get without the assistance of a hairdryer, she neatly put the towel over the back of a chair near the table. She walked over to Sam and took her coat from him.

"I put some cash in the pocket," he told her as she took the coat. She thanked him and made a weak joke about it seeming like she was a hooker being paid for her services. When concern crept over his face, she'd had to reassure him she was kidding. This was more than just sex for her, and she knew without a doubt that it was for him as well. She felt bad for making him doubt that, even for a second.

She pulled on her coat and her flicked the ends of her hair free. She ran her hands through her now-messy locks in an attempt to smooth them before looking up to meet Sam's gaze.

"I gotta go," Andy admitted with the same sad eyes he'd seen earlier.

"I know," Sam confirmed softly, taking a step even closer to her. "But," he added, "no going back," he spoke sincerely, letting her know that he hadn't forgotten their words from just a couple of precious hours ago. She thought she heard some vulnerability in his voice, and wasn't quite such if he was promising or asking. It didn't matter, for it didn't change her response.

"No going back," she affirmed, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips as if to rubber stamp the decision. Startled, she pulled back suddenly when a horn sounded loudly from the just stirring street below.

"I guess the cab's here," she stated the obvious in that way she did sometimes.

He pulled her close and grazed his lips over both her rosy cheeks, before stealing a kiss that, though would be their last on this day, would by no means be their last ever. Sam, usually a realist and by no means a dreamer, somehow knew this for a fact.

He pulled the door open for her, knowing that if he didn't let her go now, he wouldn't be able to. He smiled reassuringly at her and she smiled weakly back before she whispered a quick goodbye and turned to leave.

As he watched the back of her disappear out the doorway, taking his heart with her, Sam made a promise aloud. It was almost as if it were an afterthought, or at least the decision to speak it was, but this did not take away from the sincerity of his words.

"I'll see you soon."


	4. Part IV

_AN: Here's part four. It is the first part set in 2x12. Thanks again for all your support everyone, I hope you enjoy this part, too! Please leave a review if you have a spare second. Hope you are all well and thank you for reading! x_

**IV.**

Andy's legs felt heavy as she ascended the metal stairs. She was grateful for the soft soles of her boots, letting her move almost silently. She suddenly felt like the petty criminals they dealt with everyday. It didn't sit right with her, but the warmth in her heart didn't seem to care.

She watched her feet with every step, for the stairwell was dark, lest the weak glow of a single naked light bulb. The nervous energy simmered beneath her skin.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she leant against the cold stone wall. Sam's apartment door was mere metres in front of her. She closed her eyes for a moment and considered her next move. On the phone, he hadn't told her what she should do when she got here. Did she knock? Did she call out? _No, the cameras might pick up my voice_, she thought.

Last time, she'd waited on the stairs while he went in ahead of her and turned off the cameras. There might be a camera filming the doorway, she realised. She swiftly moved back down the stairs a few steps. _Now what? _She wondered.'_ You're over thinking it, McNally'_, she imagined Sam saying.

"Leaving already?" the voice in her mind spoke abruptly behind her. Startled, she almost missed a step. Her hand grabbed the rail to hold her steady. _Graceful, Andy,_ she thought to herself. She turned around, knowing who she'd find. Sam stood there, looking just as good as he had the last time, and suddenly she wondered how she'd managed to stay away so long. Sam leant against the wall, his apartment door open behind him.

"How did you know I was here?" she questioned.

"Good guess," he responded smugly. His arms were folded across his broad chest.

Her eyes narrowed. "You were watching out the window." It was not a question.

"Was wondering how many laps you were gonna do before you came up."

"I was making sure I wasn't followed...!" she replied a little sheepishly.

"I know," he said with a smile. She realized he'd been teasing and felt foolish for her semi-defense response. Her nerves were getting the better of her.

"You'd make a good cop, Candice," he continued.

"Funny, I was just thinking I felt more like a criminal," she admitted.

Sam's brow furrowed, but he let it go. They needed to get inside. "You gonna come up here so I can kiss you?" he asked.

She smiled and dropped her head as if to hide it. A few locks of hair fell in her face. Three steps and she was at the top of the stairs. Sam had moved towards her, so that when she stepped of the stairs, she found herself right in front of him. She looked up with big doe eyes, her left one only revealed when he lightly pushed her hair back from her face. He read the anxiousness in the familiar, fidgety movements of her shoulders.

"Andy," he whispered, getting her attention. "Breathe."

She met his eyes and nodded. He kissed her. Just once.

"Come on," he said, gesturing over his shoulder with a quick tilt of the head.

He moved forward, clasping one of her cold hands in his. She stopped. "Wait, what about-"

"Already turned them off," he said, knowing she'd been about to ask about the cameras.

He waited for her to nod, before leading her into his apartment. Releasing her hand, he flicked on the lights and took her coat. _Just like last time_, she remembered.

Suddenly, once the fabric had moved from her hands to his, and he was a little distracted, flipping the coat's hood back into place, she spoke. "We're colouring way outside the lines here, Sam," she blurted, letting him in on the worried thoughts swirling in her mind.

He looked up at her before smoothly turning to drape her coat over the back of the armchair near the door. Hearing her words, a memory instigated smile crept over his face for a fleeting moment. But hearing the worry in her voice, the smile left his face as quickly it had arrived. He moved back to her, standing close but too close.

"Andy," he started, but she cut him off. Once Andy started talking, she found it hard to stop. He'd teased her about it on more than occasion, but secretly it was one of the many things he loved about her.

"It's not that I don't want to be here, with you. You know that I do. It's just that..." she paused. "You said it yourself, we're being incredibly stupid."

He paused, expecting her to continue. But after a beat, he realised she'd decided that_ now_ it was his turn to speak. "Look, Andy," he began. "I'm not sorry I called. I missed you and I'm happy you're here. But if you wanna put this on hold... It can wait until there's no J.D."

She felt a stab of panic. She didn't like the sound of that. At all. "Maybe it can. But I don't think I can," she admitted, almost frustrated with herself. "Sam, what do we do?"

He took a deep breath and a moved a step closer. He raised his hands to rest on her upper arms. The soft knit of her cardigan was a poor substitute for the softness of her skin. "We take it one minute at a time. And we be careful. And we know that it's worth it."

He watched as her brow softened and her moth formed a small smile. Her lips pressed a grateful kiss against his. As she lifted her lips after a moment, she kept her face close. She rest her forehead against his, taking a deep breath, calming herself.

"You okay?" he whispered as his eyes watched her face, a little blurry in such close proximity.

"Mhm," she confirmed with a lazy murmur.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"That would be good," she replied, letting out a breath.

He gave her a smile and let his nose nuzzle hers briefly, before moving to make the coffee. She didn't know how he did it, but he could calm her so easily.

She unzipped her boots and they fell with a clunk against the floor. She walked further into the open room and climbed onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. One denim-clad leg was bent underneath her, while the other was stretched out in front of her. Her socks were blue and gray stripe, and as he walked over to her with coffees in hand, he suddenly thought just how young she looked.

He handed her a coffee and settled down next to her.

"Thank you," she answered with unnecessary politeness. "So, is it going okay? The undercover?" she asked as she sank down next to him.

"It's great right now," he said with as leant down and kissed her jaw.

"Sam," she kept focus despite the distraction, cop training paying off. "I'm serious," she continued, looking up at him with determined eyes.

"I'm being careful, okay? Not a mark on me," he raised his hands.

"Good. I like you as you are, thank you very much."

"Oh really?" he teased.

"Duh," she replied in a kid-like fashion just before his lips met hers. He tasted coffee on her lips, and suddenly he didn't feel like he needed his own anymore. He put the mug down on a small table next to the bed before standing up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, more curious than concerned.

"Nowhere," he said, as he bent down to light the old-fashioned fireplace not far from the end of the bed. "Up," he demanded cheekily with a quick head gesture, as the flames began to crackle to life.

"Bossy," she accused, despite following his instruction.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, he hastily pulled the top sheet, quilt and a blanket from the bed. He put the quilt down on the wood floor, a small, yet safe distance from the fire. He threw the sheet and blanket down on top, half covering the thick quilt.

Andy watched in fascinated surprise as he lay back on the makeshift bed with a groan she almost teased him about. He bend an elbow under his head, tilting his face up.

"Come here," he said with a subtle head gesture.

"So J.D.'s romantic, too? He really is giving Sam a run for his money," she teased.

"Purely practical, McNally," he defended, looking up at her with a shrug. "You looked cold."

"Yeah, right." She was unconvinced.

"You gonna join me or what?" he spoke with faux grumpy impatience.

Andy rolled her eyes and gracefully joined him, her knees making a soft sound as she knelt on the wood before moving over to him.

"Surprisingly comfortable," she critiqued.

"Glad it meets your high standards," he teased with a relaxed sigh.

"Though, we probably would have been just as warm in bed, under the covers."

"Hey, this is top-notch romance right here."

"Ah, so you admit it," she teased, rolling over to face him.

"Yeah, well…" he said. Realising she'd stumped him, he stopped the talking and pressed his lips to hers.

Sam rolled her beneath him, showering her face in long, greedy kisses. His hands slowly pushed her cardigan off her shoulders, the skin beneath it so delightfully warm and soft under his fingers.

"You know," she began in between kisses. "Without the romance this may have felt like a booty call," she teased as his lips moved down her neck.

He paused. His lips hovered above the side of her neck, just above a pretty cluster of freckles he had not forgotten. He lifted his face to look in her eyes, concerned her teasing masked genuine feelings. Her eyes wore mischief and a smile graced her face, and when she raised her right brow, he became confident the comment was nothing more than a playful tease. Regardless, Sam carefully considered his reply.

"If I just wanted a booty call, McNally, I sure as hell wouldn't pick you," he said. Her brow furrowed in confusion that almost verged on offense.

But Sam was quick to continue. "You talk _way _too much."

She giggled. Sam adored the sound.


	5. Part V

_AN: Here's part five! There'll be a couple more after this. Thanks again for your reviews and alerts, and a hello to any new readers out there! Thanks for reading everyone, I am glad you are liking it. Hope you all had, or are having, a great weekend! It was a rainy one here in Sydney. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to leave a quick review! x_

**V.**

'Stay,' he whispered slowly, feeling no regret or guilt as the words left his lips.

Her response was quick in it's arrival. 'Okay,' she answered with a delicate smile that he took pride in being responsible for. Her chin tilted up and his lips caught hers.

He opened his eyes a smidge and viewed her upside down. He was not surprised to discover that she looked just as good upside down as she did right way up. In fact, from this angle, Sam noticed a couple things he hadn't previously. A tiny, pretty scar below her chin. A harsh imprint from the sheet on the soft skin of her neck. Missing her eyes, he lifted his lips and pulled back a little so as to stare into chocolate drop irises.

'What?' she asked after a moment.

'You're beautiful,' he spoke simply.

She wasn't expecting that. The blush of her cheeks was a dead giveaway. Her eyes strayed momentarily in self-consciousness. She brought her bare arms up over her head, resting them on his shoulders. Fingers splayed on the nape of his neck, she pulled his face down to hers.

She gifted him a appreciative kiss, with tenfold the passion of your average _thank you_ kiss. It lasted longer than Sam had anticipated. Not that he minded, of course. Quite the opposite in fact.

'Whoa,' he said when the kiss eventually ended. 'I should have said that years ago,' he said with a grin.

Andy giggled, the blush of her cheeks still lingering. Grinning, Sam lay down next to her, moving with impressive grace as he twisted around to lie in the same direction as her. Shoulder to shoulder, toe to toe.

'What shift are you working tomorrow?' he asked.

'I'm not,' she replied.

'What?' he asked, confused. He rolled on to his side to look at her.

'Yeah, I quit,' she said with a believable seriousness that took even _her _by surprise. She turned her head to watch his face shift to an expression of shock. 'Turns out I actually have a deep-seated passion for _insurance_,' she said as she held back the smile that tugged at the edges of her lips, like a broken curtain refusing to open.

Sam squinted at her and a spluttered laugh broke free from her lips. She couldn't help it.

His chin dropped to his chest as he let out a sound that was half relieved sigh and half laugh. 'You actually had me believing you for a second there,' he confessed as he looked at her giggling face.

'I know, that was good huh?' she bragged, chuffed with herself, as she rolled over so they were nose to nose.

'That was cruel, McNally. When did you get so good at lying?' he asked, draping an arm over her waist.

'I don't know,' she said honestly. 'Maybe Luke rubbed off on me,' she joked.

Sam flinched. He could honestly say that when he was with her now, he forgot the recent situation where she was engaged to another man.

Andy felt his body stiffen and suddenly realized that mentioning Luke was probably not the smartest move. She was honestly so over him, that she hadn't even thought twice about mentioning him. But now, feeling Sam's body tense against hers, she instantly regretted it.

'God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned him, I didn't even think,' she rambled.

'Andy,' he got her attention, a hand on her face. 'It's fine, okay?' he assured her with eyes locked on hers. 'You _were _engaged to the guy, of course his name is going to come up at some point.'

She looked at him for a moment. Suddenly, she wondered if she wasn't the only one with fears.

'You know I want to be here, right?' It was a vast understatement and didn't even scratch the surface of her feelings. She was frustrated and annoyed with her inability to say more. But for now, that would have to do.

He read the honesty in her eyes, accompanied by the fear of revealing too much. He wished he could will away that fear, but he knew that now was not only not _the right time_, but it also didn't offer nearly _enough time_ to do so.

'Yeah, I had a feeling,' he teased with a smile, easing himself over her, with nothing except the sheet resting haphazardly between them. Their chests enjoyed a naked embrace where the sheet had slipped. 'I mean,' he continued. 'People don't generally ask to stay if they are somewhere they don't want to be,' his words were muffled as his lips fell to hers.

He slid his hands underneath her upper back, feeling the sharp strength of her shoulder blades. As his lips stayed on hers, his hands journeyed down her back. A hand pressed under her coccyx, lifting her from the now-flattened quilt as the bone rest in his palm.

'How's your back?' he asked as his lips took a fleeting break from hers.

'What?' she asked, confused, as he seemingly ignored her and rolled over, gently bringing her down on top of him.

He groaned a little as the weight of her body pressed him firmly into the floor. 'Your back would give you hell tomorrow if you stayed there all night.'

'By the sound of that groan I think you should be worrying about your own back, old man.'

'Remind me why I didn't kick you out into the cold,' he feigned serious consideration.

She spoke with an amateur sultriness. 'Well,' she began. 'It might have something to do with this...' She kissed him slowly as she further relaxed against him, letting as much of her body as possible make contact with his.

'Ohh,' he drew out the sound as if realization was dawning. 'That might have something to do with it.'

She giggled and kissed him again. It had become almost instinctive. Already.

He cradled her shoulders. 'Come on. Bed.'

'We're in bed,' she said, burrowing her face into his chest.

'One with a mattress, McNally,' he said as he gently rolled her off him and onto her back. He kissed her quickly before sitting up with a groan, stretching his back.

'Old man,' she teased once again, rolling on to her side and tucking down, showing no sign of moving.

Sam stood up, before bending over fleetingly and grabbing a corner of the sheet. Like a magician flicking off a tablecloth, he pulled the sheet from Andy's naked form.

'Hey!' she cried.

'Payback, McNally,' he said as he put the sheet back on the bed.

She let out an 'ugh' in that way he'd heard from her a few times before.

She reluctantly stood up and moved back to the bed, glad that Sam was distracted tucking in the sheet. Yes, they'd slept together, but it was another thing to walk around in front of him, stark naked.

She pulled back the sheet on the right side - her side - and lay down on the mattress, pulling the sheet back over her. Sam grabbed the quilt and blankets and draped them over the bed, a corner of the quilt tickling her nose.

'So tell me. Really no work tomorrow?' he asked as he climbed into bed next to her and leant an elbow on the mattress, resting his head in his palm as he looked down at her.

'I was down for the afternoon shift, but Frank let me take it off so I can finalise my mortgage.'

'What?' he asked.

'I bought a house,' she said, her eyes lighting up.

'You did?' He was a little surprised she'd actually gone through with it.

'Yep. Signed the forms and everything,' she said proudly.

'Congratulations,' he said sincerely.

'Thanks,' she said. 'So...' she began, lowering her voice. 'Seeing as I don't have to be at work in the morning, you want to celebrate?' she raised an eyebrow.

He almost laughed. 'Your seductive act needs some work, McNally,' he teased. 'No wonder you made a lousy hooker.'

Her bottom lip fell and her eyes widened. 'Hey! What does that say about you huh?' she questioned with a smile. 'You haven't fled in horror!' she defended.

He smiled, nuzzling her nose with his. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Her brain told her it was merely the obvious reply. But as his lips met hers, the flutter in her heart told her of the sincerity of his words.


	6. Part VI

_AN: Sorry for the wait. Things have been annoyingly busy and I actually started on the next chapter before this one, not intending for this one to exist. The next chapter picks up after the pistachio ice cream conversation, and while writing it, I suddenly thought 'wait, what about one prior to that scene, when they first wake up?' Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! I am thrilled with the number I have been receiving and I hope you enjoy this part too! Oh, and I was wrong again about how many chapters there will be. The next one will not be the last. Possibly not even the second last… x_

**VI.**

Andy's feet were cold. The fire had long since died and her feet had, at some point during the night, kicked up the bedding and crept out underneath. Perhaps her feet had been preparing for her traditional disappearing act, she thought bitterly. But it was a tradition that last night she'd broken, falling asleep as easily as she had for the first fourteen years of her life.

When she'd awoken mere seconds ago, she hadn't been confused or taken even a _second _to remember where she was. Or whose strong body was curved around her back. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rolled over. Her nose brushed against Sam's chest, a few hairs tickling her skin. One of his arms was draped over her side. The weight was not stifling, but comforting. Sam lay still, but Andy wasn't sure that he was, in fact, still asleep. She hadn't looked into his face, slowly taking in one thing at a time in order to savor the moment of waking in his arms. She nuzzled further into his chest, pressing a light kiss to his skin.

'Do I get to see your eyes sometime soon, McNally?'

She flinched a little at the sudden sound of his voice, despite not being surprised to find him awake. She smiled into his skin, before lifting her face and granting his wish.

'You a_re _awake,' she spoke. Her voice was a little rough with sleep. He loved this new timbre and felt privileged, hearing it for the first time.

'Yeah, been waiting for you to join me. Took you long enough,' he teased as he ran a hand gently through her hair.

'You were missing me, huh? Even when I was right here,' she teased, stretching out her legs and wriggling further up to him. 'Some would say you're _smitten_.'

He couldn't deny that, even jokingly. 'Well,' he began. 'They would be right.' He looked at her with honest, dark eyes, a smile raising the corners of his lips.

His beautifully sincere words took her by surprise. Unusually speechless, she settled for pressing her lips to his.

'You could have woken me up,' she said, propping her head in the palm of her hand, her elbow braced against the mattress.

'Yeah well, I wore you out. Least I could do was let you get some sleep,' Sam said with a smug grin.

'Oh, just a bit impressed with yourself are you?' she questioned with a small laugh and subtly reddening cheeks.

'Yes. I am actually,' he responded cockily, dimples in plain view.

'Yeah well, I guess you are pretty good,' she admitted. She continued before his bragging could resume. 'I mean, considering your age.'

He groaned, smiling in juxtaposition to the sound. 'Again with the age comments, McNally? Man,' he said.

She giggled, leaning down and pressing her lips to his again. He pulled her closer, hands gently claiming the bare skin of her back. As their lips slowly parted he pushed some hair back from her face, studying her face in the gentle morning light. He suddenly realised that his throat felt dry and though he often felt thirsty first thing in the morning, he wasn't sure that it couldn't be at least _partly_ attributed to the sheer natural beauty of the woman staring back at him.

'Want a drink? Coffee? Juice?' he asked.

'Juice, really?' She'd never have imagined Sam Swarek drinking juice. It didn't seem particularly suited to his undercover persona, so she felt confident assuming it was a Sam thing, not a J.D. thing. She made a mental note, storing the information away for future reference. 'You're more of a kid than I thought,' she said.

Sam brought his lips back to hers, silencing the delightful giggle that had crept from her lips once again. Seeking greater control, he eased himself up against the headboard, to a half-sitting, half-lying position. As he pulled her up with him, his lips only leaving hers for a mere nanosecond or two, the sheet slipped gracefully from her breast, like water from a quiet, rural waterfall. Andy's lips jerked back from his, as if she'd experienced an electric shock. Literally.

'What?' Sam questioned, perplexed. His eyebrows raised as Andy scrambled around and dove under the covers like a baby dolphin yet to perfect its movements.

Her feet flapped in the air and Sam pulled out of the way. Red toenails danced in front of him as she worked her way further under the covers. He almost laughed, the sight was so ridiculous.

'What _are_ your doing?' he asked, though it was his tone more than his words that expressed his complete confusion.

'I'm putting on my shirt,' she explained, almost as if she thought it were obvious. He knew for a fact her shirt was on the ground and when she crept further under the covers, he knew she was reaching for it on the ground at the end of the bed.

'Huh, wouldn't have made you for shy,' he teased. Truthfully, he wouldn't have. Not after he'd already had the honor of seeing her body bare. More than once, in fact.

'I'm not being shy,' she denied. 'I'm just, you know.' He suddenly realized where this behaviour was coming from.

Pulling the covers off her with a cheeky grin, he was faced with the amusing sight of a messy-haired Andy, looking up at him like a child being caught with a hand in the cookie jar. He'd half been expecting to find himself staring straight at her butt, and while he would not have complained, this sight was even better.

'Wire's off, camera's off, Andy,' he assured her.

'Prove it,' she challenged, hair sticking out at angles and the bedding shrouding her like a hood.

Sam's eyebrows raised. He boldly got up from the bed, stark naked, and walked towards the kitchen. He turned back to face the Andy, lifting his hands in surrender as he sought her approval.

'You happy?' he asked.

She giggled as her eyes glanced over his naked body.

'Very,' she replied cheekily.

'Grapefruit or cranberry?' he questioned, pulling the fridge door open and inspecting the juice selection.

He looked back at her, waiting for a response. Andy continued to fidget with putting on her shirt while responding with 'orange'. He stared back, seemingly unimpressed. She raised her brows and gave a self-satisfied smile.

As he tossed the raspberry juice aside and declared grapefruit the winner, he knew that Andy would never make things easy for him, challenging him and keeping him on his toes whether it be on the job or off. He smiled a little, for he wouldn't have it any other way. '_It keeps me young_,' he thought jokingly to himself.

As Andy finally succeeded in getting her top properly on, he took a greedy gulp of juice. '_Damn, she was freaking right,' _he thought._ '__Or__ange would have been better.'_


	7. Part VII

_AN: Here's part seven, I hope you like it! It picks up after the juice drinking and pistachio ice cream discussion. I am so excited that I have made it to 100 reviews. Thank you all for your support and kind words and I'd be delighted if you left a quick review for this chapter, too. Thanks guys, hope you are all well! x_

**VII. **

She tasted grapefruit. She didn't know if it were on his lips or her own. Right now, they were one in the same.

'Good morning,' Sam said when their lips finally parted, realising they'd somehow skipped that part. They were good at skipping steps. His right hand gently grabbed again at the bulk of messy hair over Andy's left shoulder.

'You know what?' she began. 'It really is.' Later she'd probably hate how mushy she sounded, but right now, she was too content to care.

'Sam's going to have a lot to live up to,' she added playfully.

'Oh, I think he'll manage,' he promised.

'The only thing missing is a decent breakfast. Cause you've got another thing coming if you think juice is going to fill me up,' she challenged.

'Work up an appetite did you?' he asked cheekily, making not-so-subtle reference to how they'd spent a decent portion of the night.

'Hey,' she punched him playfully in the shoulder. 'Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,' she said in a silly display of wisdom, pointing a finger in the air for added dramatic effect. Her performance earned a dimpled laugh from the naked man beside her.

'Well,' he began, walking over to the fridge. He pulled open the fridge door, his naked body mostly hidden behind it. Andy could spy a bit of back and a smidgen of bottom. She smiled. 'It's a pretty sad state of affairs, I'm afraid, sweetheart.' Sam announced. 'I don't know that your high standards will be met,' he teased, knowing full well that she was not fussy.

'Hey, I've been eating alphabet cereal with Leo,' she confessed.

'Another man, McNally?' he teased, shooting her a look and pushing the fridge shut after pulling out a loaf of bread. He checked the expiry date. Still good. _Just._

'Traci's kid,' she replied with a laugh.

'Ahh, right,' Sam drawled, playing up his response as if knowledge was slowly being bestowed on him, despite having known exactly who Leo was.

'Doofus,' she teased with a laugh.

Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd heard someone use the word _doofus_. He loved that he was still learning new things about her. He grabbed some spreads from a high up cupboard, the muscles of his back rippling as he reached up. Andy noticed this, her eyes admiring him from her distance.

She was brought back to the moment by the sound of his voice. 'So, still staying at Traci's?' he asked, throwing a few slices of bread in the toaster.

'Yeah,' she confirmed, before shrugging a shoulder and continuing in a rush. 'Well I've stayed at my dad's a couple of times. Just when Trace has been staying over at Jerry's.'

He didn't like her staying at her dad's. It wasn't a good part of town. But he let it go for the moment, choosing to continue on the topic of Traci and Jerry. 'Ah, so that's back on?' he queried.

'Yeah, I don't think those feelings ever went away, you know?' she said. Sam nodded and Andy read a seriousness in his eyes. She quickly continued. 'Anyway, felt kind of weird staying there with her mum and Leo, when she was at Jerry's. I mean, she said I could but it seemed kind of pathetic. The loser being looked after by her best friend's mum.'

'I'm sure you looked after yourself just fine.'

'Well thank you,' she replied sarcastically, but not rudely, with a slight eye roll and a smile. 'I did, but she just couldn't help herself. I guess it's a mom thing. You worry, even when the kid isn't yours. Or even still a _kid_.'

He gave a tight nod, noticing the sudden sombreness of her doe eyes and the droop of her shoulders. He knew she hadn't really realised what she was saying until she'd said it and was caught off guard by the feelings her own words brought plundering down on her.

'Hey,' he began, moving a few steps closer but remaining in the kitchen. He waited until she lifted her head and her eyes met his before continuing. 'It's _her_ loss.'

She smiled at him, comforted, and not the least bit surprised at how easily he had read her.

Refusing to let mom thoughts, as she'd named them years ago, steal this time with Sam, she fell back onto the bed. She let her body relax into the mattress, sighing in comfort.

'This bed is amazing,' she began. 'Can you like, bring it back with you?'

'Trying to scrounge stuff for your new place, McNally?' he accused lightheartedly.

'Maybe,' she admitted. With her legs pulled up, her knees were raised off the bed and blocked his view of her face. But he could hear the smile in her voice.

'Jam or cream cheese?' he asked from the kitchen.

'Peanut butter' she responded cheekily, tilting her legs to the side and peeking around at him, catching his poor attempt at looking annoyed by her response.

_Okay_, he thought, _I should have expected that._ He made a mental note. Orange juice and peanut butter.

'Cream cheese it is,' he decided.

She didn't object, so he continued with the simple breakfast preparations.

Andy listened to the rough sound of the knife against the toasted bread, closing her eyes as she awaited her breakfast delivery. Sure enough, Sam soon appeared by her side. She'd heard his footsteps as the toasty smell became stronger. Her eyes opened and she sat up in bed, hands clasped to her chest in anticipation, like a kid awaiting a promised treat.

'It's just toast, Andy,' he said, sitting down next to her in the place he'd vacated only minutes earlier. He placed the plate of toast between them. The slices were arranged in a neat, staggered pile. Andy wondered if this had been deliberate, but decided not to ask. He'd deny it, she knew.

'It's toast _in bed_,' she said, as if that made a drastic difference.

'And here I was thinking it was the rugged good looks of your waiter that made all the difference.'

'Maybe that too,' she admitted, grabbing a piece of toast from the top of the pile and eagerly taking a huge bite from a corner. Sam grinned at her, loving her unashamed approach to food. He'd never understood why some women made a point to pick at their food and take pathetically miniscule bites. _Food is meant to be eaten_, he'd always said.

Soon the plate was empty, and Sam wholeheartedly believed she'd eaten more than he had. But he knew better than to tease her about that, enthusiastic eater or not.

'Thanks for breakfast,' she said, smiling at him as he took the empty plate back into the kitchen. _Mr Domestic_, she thought. Who knew?

'Like I said, just toast McNally,' he said with a shrug, coming back to join her on the warm bed.

'Yeah, well don't think that I didn't hear you when you said that you cook. Next time, I'm going to expect a home cooked meal.'

He opened his mouth to object, but she continued before he could.

'Toast does _not_ count,' she affirmed.

'Actually, I was going to point out that _you_, Officer McNally, said you were never doing this again,' he said. 'But I guess that didn't mean much when you said it last time, so…' he continued, teasing her about this for not the first time. As he spoke, he leant in close to her and let his lips dust down her neck.

She refused to let his actions distract her. 'Yeah well, _you_ called me remember, and I'm used to doing what you tell me, Officer Swarek,' she countered.

His eyebrows shot up and his head jerked back. 'No, you are _not_,' he said definitively. 'That has to be the absolute, biggest lie I have heard in a long time, McNally,' he said.

She giggled and he shook his head at her, with a grin playing on his lips. Those lips that were quick to fall back on to her neck. He placed kisses up her throat, her head tipping back and exposing more of her neck to him. His mouth moved along her jaw and past her ear, before stopping for a moment.

Andy was about to question why he had stopped, when his voice spoke softly.

'If this goes to plan, I'll see what I can do about the bed'. His lips tickled as her skin as he spoke, fluttering against the soft skin behind her ear where her hairline ended.

'Seriously?' she asked, surprised he'd taken her cheeky request so seriously.

'Yeah, well. What can I say, it's got a couple of decent memories.'

'Just decent?' she questioned slyly, leaning back to meet his eyes.

'Nope,' he responded instantly, dimples making a dramatic entrance as he gently pushed her onto her back, stealing traces of breakfast from the edge of her lower lip.

Cream cheese had never tasted so good.


	8. Part VIII

_AN: I am so sorry for how slow I was in updating. Things have been busy and also, for some reason, I was just really stuck on this chapter. The ideas weren't flowing easily at all. Anyway, here it is. I rewrote and reworked it many times until I was at least mostly happy. It had become kind of obsessive so I decided just to post it and not stress about it anymore. It is set in 2x12 after Jamie Brennan's unexpected visit. I hope you like it and thanks again to all my lovely reviewers and readers. Much love to you all. x Mara_

**VIII:**

Fifteen minutes, Sam told her. Fifteen minutes for safety. He welcomed the delay. Despite the reason for it. This time with Andy was sacred. Beautifully new and raw. He wanted to soak up every second. Not that he'd admit that out loud. Not in so many words, at least.

With hands wrapped around her strong, slender arms, Sam held her steady and kept her close. He was proud of how she'd kept both her cover and her cool. But in the moments since the door had closed behind a man he never wanted her in the same room as, a delayed panic had claimed her. Her eyes were trained on his, seeking solutions and assurance. The messy knot of hair high at the back of her head jerked with an agitated, impatient movement of her head.

Sam almost laughed at her panicked state. It was not entirely unjustified, but he'd seen her more calm with a gun staring her down.

'Are you sure fifteen minutes is even enough, huh?' she snapped. Not rude, just anxious.

Sam smiled a little. If she was offering an opportunity for him to snatch up more time with her, he sure as hell was taking it.

'Maybe twenty,' he said after a quick glance over Andy's shoulder, feigning paranoia and keeping his face serious, at least for a second or two. Until a dimpled grin took over. His grin was a dead giveaway that his amended timeframe was more about 'want' than 'need'.

'What?' Andy exclaimed, half laughing at the look on his face. He looked like a mischievous boy in a candy store, plotting to steal a piece of candy when no one was looking.

The reason became clear to her as he backed towards the bed, pulling her with him.

'Sam.. we don't have time,' she spoke bashfully. She half-heartedly pushed him away with a palm to his chest.

He grinned. 'Time for what?' he spoke innocently, playing dumb like a petty crook. He lifted his hands a little, so only his last two fingers stayed in contact with her arms, before missing the contact and letting them drop again to her robe-covered arms. The fabric was crisp under his skin.

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look, not buying his clueless act for a second. 'You know what. You know... that!' She said, jerky hand movements accompanying her words, in a way that could almost have been suggestive, but he knew it was merely for emphasis. This fact didn't, however, affect the growing smile settling in on his face.

'I do know,' he said simply. 'Twenty minutes sure as hell isn't enough time,' he agreed with sincerity, despite the lightheartedness of their banter.

She almost blushed. There had been nothing brief about their three instances of love-making. Not in regard to his stamina and definitely not in regards to his thorough worship of her body. Before _and_ after.

Despite his words of agreement on the significant lack of time, Sam only pulled her closer, his nose brushing hers. His rough hands climbed from her arms to the strong curve of her back, suddenly hating the robe that kept his fingertips from making direct contact with the skin he now knew well.

'Sam, what are you-' Andy began, when he showed no sign of relenting.

He cut her off. 'Just let me kiss you, McNally. We got time for that.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Fine,' she said, just as his lips were mere millimeters from hers.

He pulled back. 'Oh it's a hardship now?' he questioned teasingly. 'You're not supposed to feel that way 'til we're old and grey and resent each other.'

She opened her mouth to speak and Sam knew what teasing comment he'd just lined himself up for. He raised a hand to stop her.

'Don't say it,' he said, cocking his head to the side and cringing at the unspoken words. He didn't need to be reminded of his age. Or more importantly, just how much older than _her_ he was. He pulled her down onto the bed with him. Andy ended up half sprawled on top of him. Quite happily so.

Andy gave a cheeky smile, an undignified chuckle creeping past her lips. She drummed her fingers on his chest.

He rolled her beneath him, nuzzling his face into her neck and gently kissing his way up to her lips. She wondered if he'd always do that. She hoped so.

'Besides, just so you know, that insult is getting a little old,' he drawled into her lips.

Her eyebrows raised and he realized what he'd said. More specifically, what final word he'd used, setting himself up for that same potential insult once again.

'Crap,' he grumbled, dropping his forehead to her shoulder as Andy giggled at his response. Sam made a mental note to eliminate any words relating to age from his vocabulary. Clearly, Andy could not be trusted not to exploit the opportunity to playfully have a jab at him.

'Okay,' he said definitively, lifting his head and looking her in the eye. 'Enough talking.'

'Hey, _you're_ the one who is doing all the talking this time,' she defended, seemingly a little proud of this fact.

'Yeah well, don't get used to it,' he teased, stealing the smile from her face with his kisses.

His kisses were slow, languidly unhurried in a way she'd never experienced before him. He didn't tug at her robe or the skin below it, even when his lips swam over her throat. He devoted his attention solely to the skin exposed, wary of getting sidetracked and quite content with whatever part of her was available to him at that moment.

Andy let her eyes drift shut, letting his loving touch wash over her. She shouldn't be there, she knew. But with Sam's beautiful company and gentle touch, there was no way she could regret it or wish to be anywhere else. But their close call with Jamie had reminded her of what she had already known - that she'd been foolish to come back. She couldn't even pretend that she'd thought twice when Sam had called. _'Still lonely in the world of insurance?' _he'd asked. _'Cause I'm thinking it's not only insurance that's lonely work.'_ His request for her company had been less than subtle. She'd grinned, giving a quick affirmative response, too eager to make things hard for him with a play of resistance.

For the week since that first night together, she'd been missing him with a familiar pain. It was the same pain with which she'd missed her mother in those first days after she left. The days when she fully believed that her mother would walk back in the door at any moment. Each of those days, she'd awoken to the sound of an alarm rather than the sound of her mother's voice and each day, she'd thought it would be the last. In the days after _that night_ with Sam, she'd similarly had to remind herself each day that he was no longer there. It had hurt each time. It was pathetic, maybe. But it was certainly real.

'No thinking,' Sam requested, gently rubbing his lips between her eyebrows.

'Yeah,' she agreed. He'd read her so easily once again.

He pulled back a little to meet her eyes, concerned and not convinced. 'You okay?' he asked.

'Yeah, I just.. I shouldn't be here,' she said simply. 'But I don't want to leave,' she admitted.

He swallowed, embraced by emotion he wasn't anticipating. I don't want to leave, she'd said. The words were perfect to him. _Ask me to stay_, he remembered. _I don't want to leave_ was now locked in his memory, firmly beside those earlier words. Words he'd not forget.

'If it were up to me, Andy, you wouldn't be going anywhere,' he said, reminding himself of his words from the night before. 'But it's not _safe_,' he continued. 'And besides, you've got a mortgage to finalise.'

She nodded. 'I know,' she confirmed. She looked away from Sam's concerned eyes and glanced at her watch. 'I better get changed and get going,' she said regretfully.

He kissed her once, extra slowly this time, letting his nose cuddle hers as the kiss ended. Then he raised himself off her, letting her sit up. She tucked a few loose locks of hair behind her ear and stood, about to move to the bathroom where she'd left her clothes hanging over the shower screen. Before she had taken a step, Sam was up and standing behind her, a little to her right. He loosely wrapped his left arm around her waist.

'Andy', he said, his voice close to her right ear. 'I'm gonna miss you,' he reaffirmed what he'd earlier told her.

Andy smiled. Those simple words, she'd cling to. For she knew he meant them.


	9. Part IX

_AN: Here's chapter nine, only one more after this! I am sad to end it, but there are only so many missing moments! I may, however, do a sequel, set post season two. But no guarantees yet! Sorry that there is very little dialogue in this chapter, but I felt a chapter for this bit was necessary and dialogue didn't really fit in very much. It is set immediately after Sam's rescue. That part of the episode, in regard to Sam/Andy, could be interpreted in many different ways. It was quite subjective. This is merely my interpretation, but I hope it works for you. Reviews would be lovely. Thank you all so, so much for your reviews, alerts etc. Much love. x_

**IX:**

Andy's legs were still shaking when she got back into the car. The warmth inside the vehicle brought an abrupt shift from the harsh chill of the winter's night air. Her hand trembled as she went to put the key in the ignition. The key glinted as it caught the headlights of the police car behind them, as if to draw attention to the shake of her hand.

She felt the new guy's eyes on her as he sat beside her in the passenger seat. '_What __was __his __name __again?_' she asked herself silently. '_Sun. __Someone __Sun.__'_ She heard him ask if she was okay and gave a brief affirmative response, eyes staring blankly ahead. She wasn't okay. But the day wasn't over yet. There was no time for breaking down.

The whole day had felt surreal, and no part more so than what she'd just witnessed. Sam, walking out of the house, trailed by Oliver and some of the others. She couldn't remember who, despite the fact that it had all gone down just minutes earlier. All her eyes had been able to focus on was the sight of Sam's battered form as he took heavy steps across the old deck. He looked weaker than she'd ever seen him. Exhausted and pained. She'd anticipated him falling with each step he took. He didn't. Before she'd even registered it, he was right there in front of her.

He'd stopped and met her gaze. The blood on his skin was horribly striking against the gentle scenery. His eyes were wide, his mouth open a little as if he were still struggling for air. It sent a chill down her spine. After a brief moment, he'd looked away. He'd raised his heavy head and looked tiredly into the distance. A simple 'yeah' had left his lips. Andy hadn't know what it meant. That fact had unnerved her. Seconds later, Sam's body had moved passed hers and she'd flicked her head around, confused, yet painfully reluctant for him to leave her sight.

Now, as she finally succeeded with the key and started the car, she tried not to read too much into Sam's reaction. Rather, she tried not to analyse it to within an inch of it's life, or in fact even think about it at all. He was _alive_. That was all that mattered.

Andy had never been good at compartmentalizing, but gave it an impressive attempt. She kept her eyes on the road, concentrating on driving carefully along the night roads. She gripped the wheel tightly, pathetically grateful for being in control of something.

xxx

Sam had seen her leave in one of the many awaiting cop cars. Some cop he didn't know had accompanied her, following her lead with a newbie awkwardness. He'd smiled a little. Not long ago that had been her.

Now, Sam sat in the passenger seat while Oliver drove in silence. Sam had been expecting a serve, but it didn't come and he was grateful. His body ached and his face throbbed, yet he'd irrationally stated that he didn't need to go to the hospital. He just wanted to get this night over. Get back to the station, give his statement, listen to whatever Frank would dish out. And then find McNally. He knew she was feeling just as bad as he was. Physical pain or not.

Oliver had argued with him, insisting the ambulance officers' efforts, though thorough, were not enough. Sam didn't have the energy to fight him on it, so had relented. He had, however, insisted ambulance transportation was not necessary. So he found himself now sitting in the passenger seat - a rarity in itself - while Oliver drove him to the hospital. The hospital that was in the opposite direction to the station. The opposite direction to Andy.

When he'd finally walked free from the house, he'd noticed her instantly. The police cars' headlights had cast blue and red beams around her body and over the side of her face, but he'd still have seen her without their glow. Even in a resulting darkness.

He had not been surprised to find Andy there. Yet as soon as he had seen her, a peaceful relief had swept over him. He'd realised, at that moment, that a part of him hadn't fully believed she was _okay_. He'd needed to _see_her. Eyes open and standing. Later, he knew he would need to guide his hands over her bare body. From head to little toe. Wounds could be hidden, he knew.

Yet, as glad as he was to see her, he didn't want her to see _him_ like this. She didn't need to. But it couldn't be helped. He was more than glad that she hadn't come inside the house. It would have only made this worse for her. He imagined Oliver was the one to thank for her position outside.

As he'd stood before her, Sam had read the cocktail of emotions on her face. He was familiar with each. He'd been feeling them too. Then. Now. Looking into her eyes, he'd felt the weight of her emotions and his perceived responsibility for them. As her eyes had glanced over to the blood on his temple and forehead, a chilling thought had crossed his mind. _'It __could __have __been __her.'_ Guilty, he walked on.

'She was just the same as you, Sammy,' Oliver said suddenly.

'What?' Sam asked, confused. He had been too lost in thought to fully register Oliver's words, and was almost taken by surprise as he snapped back to the moment and found himself in a car. The silence and gentle rhythm of the car along the ever so slightly bumpy road had lulled his mind into reflection.

'McNally,' Oliver clarified. 'She was frantic, tetchy even. Crazy worried and determined as _all __hell,_' he said. Sam turned a little to watch Oliver as he spoke. 'Just like _you_ were, every time she put herself in danger doing something stupid. Like running into that burnt out laundromat.'

Sam let this thought rest with him in the silence that followed, taking over the confined space of the car and it's two occupants. Sam knew Andy cared about him. Quite possibly even more than that, if he dared to let himself believe that. But hearing Oliver's words, his heart skipped a beat. Both touched and troubled. He never wanted her to experience that feeling of dread and panic. Not if he could help it.

'Glad you're okay, brother,' Oliver concluded. 'And I'm definitely not the only one.'

It was blatantly obvious who he was referring to. Sam looked out at the black road ahead, seeing the snow at the roadside illuminate as they approached a curve in the road and the headlights tumbled across it.

'Subtlety's never been your strong suit, Oliver. Don't go trying it out on me now,' Sam teased with a hint of trademark grumpiness, speaking his first complete sentence since getting into the car. Oliver smiled. '_Same __old __Sammy,__' _he thought, grateful.

'Just stating the facts, Sammy,' Oliver said. 'Just stating the facts.'

Sam leant back into the seat, letting his aching body relax and take his tired mind with it.


	10. Part X

_AN: I am so sorry it has taken so long for me to get this final chapter up. I am in my last semester of uni, doing 'design in visual communication', and had my final, major project due last week. One semester's worth of work. So that was taking up a lot of my time. However, this chapter is the longest at approx 3,500 words. So maybe that makes up for the wait? It was a tricky chapter and I've been editing, adding and fussing over it for a while. Anyway, I hope you like it! It is set at the end of 2x13. I will be doing a sequel, so look for that in the coming weeks! Make sure to add me to your author alerts if you want a heads up when I post it. It will be a new fic, so story alerts for this one won't let you know. Thank you so much for all your support and kind reviews. I am amazed at the response this fic has had, so thank you all so very much! Catch you soonish with the sequel! Much love x Mara_

**X.**

A light flake of snow ticked her cheek, the still air letting it linger. She remembered a childhood Christmas where she and her mother, all rugged up in their warmest clothes, had stood in the backyard in the snow and counted the snowflakes as they fell on her rosy-cheek, upturned face.

Andy dropped her head and studied her boot-clad feet, nostalgic for the ease of her early childhood. She was unsure of what to do with the situation she'd found herself in. It was not one she'd planned for. She heard the gentle chug of Sam's truck as it idled at the side of the road. The sound was somehow comforting, rhythmic and consistent.

She looked up, meeting Sam's dark eyes through the truck window. He was mere metres from her but the distance between them felt vast. When that had happened, she wasn't sure.

As she looked at him, Sam looked back and studied her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, evidence of tears. Tears he knew probably had been pushed back rather than spilled. Her nose was red from the cold. If she'd been closer, he'd have warmed it with his. Her brow was furrowed a little, her expression troubled.

'Sam,' she began again, still struggling with what to say. The thoughts raced through her head.

_I'm sorry. I'm glad you're okay. Really glad. I was so scared. Everyone knows about us. Not that I care. I'm not ashamed. I don't regret it. I understand if you do. I almost got you killed. Does your face hurt a lot? Of course it does. I still don't want to go back. Please don't say that you do. I would understand though. Sam. Do you have a concussion? I love you. I'm coming home with you._

Her eyes fell to once again examine her dark boots, sprinkled with snow like icing sugar on a chocolate cake.

'McNally,' he pulled her from her thoughts. Her eyes met his and she wasn't sure if he was going to say anything more or if he was in the same boat as her, lost for words.

Apparent not. 'Get in,' he concluded simply.

She smiled a little. 'Is that an order?' she teased weakly, but not without effort and deliberacy.

He glanced towards the road out the front windscreen, a grin forming on his face.

He looked back at her. 'If it needs to be,' he said with a shrug.

His smile remained, but she read a vulnerability in his eyes. She stepped off the curb with a small smile. She pulled open the heavy passenger-side door of the truck, her gloved hand stealing wet snow from the cold metal.

She climbed into the passenger seat, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze, despite the number of times she'd sat in a car beside him. But this was different. Those other times were, well, at the very least, they were _before_.

'It didn't need to be, by the way,' she replied softly after he pulled out onto the road.

'What?' he questioned.

_'Get__in,_' she reminded, quoting his words back to him. 'It didn't need to be an order,' she confessed with a small smile.

'Well that's good. If it were an order you _probably_ wouldn't have followed it,' he said teasingly.

Andy felt a pang. His words were playful. Yet an element of truth was there. She took a deep breath and told herself not to be so sensitive. But it had been a long day, and the welled-up tears in her eyes were resurfacing, burning for escape. She held them back in a way she'd come to perfect many years ago.

'Andy,' he began when he registered her silence and, out of the corner of his eye, saw her take a deep breath.

'I'm sorry,' she replied shakily.

'You don't have anything to be sorry for,' he said matter-of-factly.

'Have you forgotten the last 24 hours?' she said, her sorrow leading to frustration.

'Andy, listen to me,' he began, eyes briefly leaving the road to look at her pointedly. He looked back ahead as he continued, speaking definitively and leaving no room for negotiation. 'I'm okay. And what happened was _not_your fault. You hear me? It was _not_ your fault. End of story.'

His tone suggested that any rebuttal would be fruitless. She gave a feeble nod, wholeheartedly unconvinced. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting on her lap. She felt anger at how the skin of her hands, unlike his, was undamaged and pristine.

'I was just kidding, before,' Sam said. 'You know when to follow orders and when you gotta take some initiative. You're a _damn_ good cop, McNally.'

'Sam,' she murmured slowly in protest.

'Hey, I am just telling it like it is,' he looked over and gave her a quick grin.

She shook her head. He didn't comment. He knew, that in that moment at least, he wouldn't be getting through to her.

'Where are we going?' she asked quietly after a moment.

'Home,' he said simply.

'Your place?'

'Unless your new place has furniture,' he joked.

'You can drop me at Traci's,' Andy commented weakly, loosening the scarf around her neck.

'And why would I wanna do that?' he asked.

'I don't know,' she said softly.

'Andy. I want you with me.'

She was glad, and more than a little relieved. 'Okay,' she said.

'Unless you wanna be at Traci's?'

She shook her head silently, staring straight ahead like a valiant soldier heading into battle.

'Well okay, then.'

Frank had made it clear that suspended officers were not to be in contact throughout the course of their suspension. '_Usually_, that is effective _immediately_…' he'd said to Sam. With eyes staring at Sam and a slight nod of his chin, Frank's unspoken meaning was clear. Sam had nodded appreciately. 'Got it, Boss.'

Andy was quiet beside him. Once upon a time, Sam would have been grateful for her lack of chatter. Now, it bothered him.

A little while later, Sam was pushing open the door to his musty apartment. He'd stopped briefly at the corner store to grab some necessities. Andy had insisted that she be the one to go into the store. 'You're hurt. I'll go,' she'd said.

She'd returned bagless, carrying the items pressed to her chest. He'd wanted to assist her, but knew she'd be annoyed. She had managed. He'd settled for leaning across and opening her door for her, feeling the expected pain in his side. He must have hid it well, for Andy hadn't commented on it.

She had got back into the truck and lowered the groceries onto her lap, the milk carton cold through her jeans when it landed where her coat had parted. She'd then moved the milk to the space between the seats. As she'd done so, Sam had glanced a toothbrush poking out from beneath the loaf of bread. He'd smiled.

As they walked into his house, Andy studied the interior. Warmly lit with dark floors and light walls, with the odd vintage band poster adding character. _Rush,_ she noticed with a nostalgic smile.

A long sideboard was pressed against the wall, neatly storing newspapers on the lower shelf. A few books were stacked on the top shelf, with some knick knacks beside them. There was an empty black vase, some oversized wooden dice, a few shot glasses and a card she didn't peek into, despite it being easily possible as the card stood open. She took everything in, fully aware that she'd never gone past the front room - his bedroom.

'Bathroom and laundry,' he said - pointing to two doors on his left ad he walked ahead of her down the hallway. The doors were shut, so there wasn't much for her to observe. 'Living room and kitchen down here at the back.' He didn't point out the bedroom, she noted. He remembered that she already knew where it was and assumed that she remembered. _Of __course,_ Andy thought. _On __both __counts._ She was strangely touched by the first one.

She trailed after him, tugging off her scarf. The kitchen was modern, but not overly so. With clean white benchtops and a large fridge, the space was small but perfectly suitable. A large wooden table stood in the centre of the open-plan space, separating the kitchen from the living room.

The living room was larger, extending further towards the front of the house. A large television stood against the wall, on a TV stand that _almost_ matched the sideboard in the front hall. A large, dark couch and two lighter, modern arm chairs offered ample sitting space. That, combined with the huge table, made her wonder if he often had people round. She hadn't imagined him being one to entertain. _Perhaps __poker __nights __sometimes __take __place __here,_she thought.

'It's nice,' she said simply, as she placed her scarf over the back of the couch and let her coat join it. She suddenly felt a little nervous – exposed even, despite her long sleeve shirt. It was a feeling like she had felt that first night, only this time it joined the truckload of tangled feelings that she was already experiencing.

'It serves its purpose,' he said in reply, wandering into the kitchen and pulling the fridge open.

'You want a drink?'

'I'm good,' she said, taking a deep breath.

'Andy,' he said, turning to face her and seeing her standing awkwardly near the couch. 'Just relax. It's _over_. It's _done_.'

'Sam,' she began. 'We can't just ignore the fact that I… I almost got you killed.'

He read the shame on her face. He looked at her and her eyes fell, as if holding his gaze was suddenly too much. Almost as if she wasn't worthy. He swallowed emotion, her vulnerable brokenness making his heart hurt.

He took a languid step towards her. 'The story Boyd gave me? It was flawed. That had _nothing_ to do with you.' he said. Her brow relaxed a little, but he still read sorrow on her face. 'McNally,' he began, moving closer after placing his beer on the table. He dropped his forehead to hers. 'Sweetheart. You did _great._'

A whimper left her lips and a tear escaped. 'Damn it, Andy,' she thought to herself, annoyed that her resolve was slipping.

'You kept your cover, stuck to your story. And hell, let's be honest, I would've been _stuffed _without you,' he laughed feebily. 'They wouldn't have had anything to go on when it came to looking for me.'

'Yeah and they wouldn't have _had_ to come looking for you if _I_ hadn't got in the way.'

'No. Wrong. It would have happened anyway,' he said firmly.

'You got hurt,' she said simply after a second or two, as if the fact had only just dawned on her, despite this not at all being the case.

'It's the job, Andy.'

She nodded feebly and leaned back a little to study his face, their foreheads parting.

She lightly brushed shaking fingers below the red cut under his eye. She didn't touch it, not wanting to hurt him.

'Maybe it'll scar. Make me look tough,' Sam said with a grin and a one-shouldered shrug.

She tried to smile. But his pathetic attempt at lightening the mood somehow had the opposite effect. Her lip wobbled and a second sob escaped.

'Come here,' he said, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his aching arms around her.

One of his arms felt heavier against her, and she realised it was the weight of the cast and brace, protecting his broken wrist. Her own arms hung by her sides and she stubbornly held her head above his shoulder.

'I don't bite,' he teased.

'What?'

'You gonna hug me back?'

'You're hurt,' she reaffirmed, her voice quiet.

She was worried about hurting him, he realised. It was unecessary, but left him feeling touched. 'A hug won't kill me,' he said.

Tentatively, she lifted her arms and placed them under his, her hands coming to rest lightly against his back. After a moment, her hands loosely bunched the fabric of his shirt, clinging with increased confidence.

He held her close, ignoring the dull pain in his torso. It was worth it. She felt a few tears spill down her face onto his shoulder. She hoped he didn't notice. He ran a comforting hand down her hair, indicating that he probably had. She took slow, deep breaths.

'You do, by the way,' she mumbled into his shirt after a long moment of comfortable silence, less her deep breathing.

'What?' Sam asked, confused.

'Bite.'

He grinned. _Touché, __McNally,_he thought. 'Only with love, McNally,' he said with hammed-up dreaminess.

It wasn't quite _'__I __love __you,__'_ but it was close. Close enough to make her heart skip a beat, but far enough to be taken lightheartedly.

She lifted her head and made a 'pfft' sound with her lips, 'Dork.'

He smiled. He'd tell her properly some time soon.

'You hungry?' he asked, tugging

'Ugh, I dont know,' she said, while running a hand over her forehead, thoroughly overwhelmed. 'Kind of, I guess,' she said with a bewildered laugh, lifting her hand.

'Pizza?' he asked.

'Okay.'

As he walked over to phone, Andy gestured towards the bathroom. Sam nodded slightly as he placed the pizza order, holding the phone to his ear with his good hand.

Andy wandered towards the bathroom. She flicked on the light and leant against the vanity. She pulled a hair tie from her wrist and messily put her hair in a ponytail. Her hands gripped the back of her neck and she let her head drop forward, rolling her shoulders to loosen her tired muscles.

Her eyes stung with lingering tears. She closed her eyes and let them fall, knowing that - ironically - it would make her feel better. When her silent tears had ceased, she turned the sink's taps and let the water run lukewarm. She leant forward and splashed some water on her face. Drips ran down her neck and arms and she dried them with the fluffy navy handtowel hanging from the side of the vanity. She dabbed at her face, the skin tender from crying and the chill of the night air.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and reluctantly met her own gaze in the mirror. '_Wow. __Stunning, __Andy,__'_ she thought sarcastically. She flicked off the light and left the bathroom.

Sam was sitting on the couch and kicking off his boots.

'Pizza's on the way,' he said, looking up at her.

'Sam,' she began with a seriousness that surprised him. Something else was bothering her. What it was, he had no clue. 'I don't want you think that we have to this.' she continued, fiddling with her shirt sleeve.

'Do what?'

'Us,' she said, causing his brow to furrow. She continued in a rush. 'I mean, maybe it was a sign, you know? Maybe I am just bad luck. I know you said it wasn't my fault, but even if that is true, it could easily _have_ been my fault. And I, I'd be okay if we let this go. I'd understand. I mean, you were undercover and you were lonely, but that doesn't necessarily mean - '

He'd heard enough. 'Stop,' he said firmly as he slowly lifted his sore body from the couch. Andy noticed him wince ever so slightly. She glanced away, almost wincing himself. 'Stop talking,' he said as he came to stand in front of her.

'Sam, I need to - '

'No. Andy. It wasn't some kind of fear-driven, meaningless _fling_. You know that. I know that. I didn't just call you because I wanted some warm body to hop into _bed_ with. And it wasn't some _"__it __was __what __it __was__" _kind of thing either,' he said with impressive calmness. 'It wasn't back then either, for that matter,' he added softly.

She swallowed, slightly surprised by how open he was being. Not in a bad way, however.

'Sam…'

He softly placed a hand on the delicate skin where her face met her neck. 'Andy. Where is this coming from?'

'I'm probably just over thinking things, again,' she tried to get out of it.

He gently lifed her face. 'Hey,' he looked her straight in the eye. 'Tell me.'

'I guess I just,' she began. She took a deep breath, dropped her eyes and continued in a rush. 'I kind of got worried when you came out of that house and I couldn't read your expression. I had no clue what you were thinking. And then you walked past me and, I don't know. I figured you might be, maybe, that maybe you were thinking this was a mistake.'

Sam let out a shaken breath, realisation sinking in and bringing with it, guilt. 'Andy.' He said slowly, then waited until she met his eyes. 'Do you really think that?'

'I don't know.' She jerked a shoulder anxiously in a semi-shrug. 'Maybe?' she concluded honestly, doe eyes wide with anxiety.

'I'm sorry for making you think that. Because Andy, I swear, you couldn't be _more_ wrong.'

Her eyes relaxed a little, but the concern was still there.

'I felt stupid,' he said.

'What?'

'I did,' he affirmed. 'Stupid that I screwed up and needed rescuing. Stupid for getting you caught up in it all, risking your job. Your _life_. You looked so worried and I'd caused that. And I didn't want you seeing me and thinking it was your fault. Because I knew you would.'

There was truth in his eyes. She nodded slowly after a moment, relieved and now feeling a little stupid herself. 'How come you know me so well, when I seem to not be able to read you _at __all?_'

'Because I'm mysterious and intriguing. Obviously,' he said with a grin. She did that adorable 'pfft' sound again, in such a beautifully innocent way.

'Andy, you're honest and you wear your heart on your sleeve, that's all. It's a _good_thing. Plus, I have spent a lot of time paying attention to you.'

'Have you now?' she teased.

'Mhm,' he affirmed.

He leant down and pressed a single, lingering kiss to her lips. He pulled back reluctantly and nuzzled her nose with his.

'You good?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she replied softly.

'Sure?'

'I'm sure,' she said a little louder.

He believed her, but that wouldn't stop him from bringing it up again later. But for now, that was enough.

'You were right about one thing,' he pulled back a little to meet her eyes. She looked confused and knew if he waited too long before continuing, confusion would likely be taken over by worry. 'You _were _over thinking it.'

She smiled and rolled her eyes. He grinned back at her. Then, she dropped her head into her hands as if embarrassed or exhausted. Both, quite possibly.

'Ugh. I'm sorry,' she groaned, her mouth semi-covered byher hands. She looked up and let her hands fall. 'God, you're exhausted and in pain and I'm putting you through all my drama.'

'Yeah, well. I'm used to it,' he teased smugly.

'Hey…' she defended with a smile.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, followed by a knock.

'Why do they always do that?' Sam asked. '_Seriously,__'_ he thought, '_Isn__'__t __the __doorbell __enough?__'_

'They don't do it to me. Maybe they think you're just too slow to get to the door,' she teased as she walked backwards towards the door.

'There was one second in between!'

Andy laughed as she opened the door, probably confusing the young, delivery boy. She handed over the cash and took the pizza.

She walked back to the living room and found Sam back on the couch, legs outsretched on the coffee table, his beer back in his hand. Head cocked, she gave him a look.

'What? I'm injured remember?' he defended with hands - and beer - in the air.

She put the pizza on the dark coffee table and wandered into the kitchen in search of plates. She never normally bothered with a plate for pizza, but she wasn't eating alone or in the parade room at the barn. There was nothing classy about slopping pizza toppings in her lap, or on Sam's couch, while sitting together in his living room for the first time.

'About this suspension -' she said, the depressing thought creeping back into her head. She couldn't help it.

'Tomorrow, McNally,' he said semi-firmly as she sat down beside him and handed him a large, white plate. Too large, really, but it had been what she found first. Sam continued, 'Right now - food and bed.'

'Just sleeping, Sam. You're hurt,' she said seriously, just in case he was getting any ideas.

'Hey, did I suggest anything else?' he said with a smile. 'There's tomorrow for that.'

'You'll still be _hurt_ tomorrow,' she pointed out.

'I think I'll manage,' he promised.

She rolled her eyes as he grinned proudly at her. She leant forward and picked the pizza box up off the coffee table. She raised the lid and observed his toppings choice, pleasantly surprised with what she found.

'_My __favourite,__'_ she thought with a smile.


End file.
